What Deidara didn't tell Tobi
by demonrubberducky
Summary: A companion piece to 'Sculpting for Dummies'. There are some things that Deidara isn't telling Tobi about his past, things that Tobi is better off not knowing.
1. Chapter 1

"What Deidara didn't tell Tobi"

A companion piece to "Sculpting for Dummies"

(AN: the style is a little bit experimental for me, so I apologize if it reads awkwardly or anything like that. I hope it'll clear up some of Deidara's story, though.)

Disclaimer: Not my characters or my universe. Just my fucked up version of Deidara's early years.

Warnings: Um, violence, child prostitution, drug use, sex, and probably a few more unsavory things in this and the chapters to come.

Part 1

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Deidara didn't tell Tobi that, although he was an orphan, he hadn't grown up in an orphanage. In truth, he'd only spent two years in the Iwagakure orphan's home. He'd gone in at age five, when his parents left him, and gone out at the age of seven, when the 'armed conflict' with Konoha had started to get serious.

It hadn't been his choice to leave. He hadn't _liked_ it there, but it had been his home. But as more and more Iwa shinobi were killed in battle, the village had more orphans to care for. The orphanages started relocating kids like Deidara to make room for the orphans of the leading clan members, children that they knew had money or hoped to see manifesting bloodline limits.

Deidara and other nameless orphans were sent to an old apartment building and told to stay there instead. The building was unofficially condemned, and only passed yearly inspections because the officials paid off the inspector. It was cheaper than building a new orphanage for the throwaways, after all. The children living in the apartment complex were supposed to receive a monthly stipend to pay for food and clothes, but over the years, the conflict escalated into all out war, and money became scarce in the village. Budget cuts had to be made, and the village wasn't about to skimp on food and weapons for the ninja on the front line just so the extra orphans could be fed. The stipend stopped coming the year Deidara was entering the academy, and the children were left to fend for themselves.

It wasn't until years later, when Deidara left Iwa and saw how other hidden villages cared for their fallen warrior's children, that he realized the extent of the neglect to which he'd been subjected to. Before that time, he had thought being abandoned and forgotten was just a part of life.

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Deidara didn't tell Tobi that before he'd learned to defend himself, he'd been beaten up every day by his fellow orphans. Because no one else was there to watch out for them, the throwaway orphans took care of each other and formed their own families. Deidara was the exception. For that, he spent his childhood in bruises.

They'd been against him from the start. At first it was because of his looks. Blond hair and blue eyes were not rare in his village, really, but the others living in the apartment had dark hair and eyes, so he became an outsider. He was 'too pretty and too girly'. Later they began to target him for other reasons as well. They mocked his tendency to mold clay figurines in his spare time and laughed at his art. They pummeled him for his poor grades at the academy and out of jealousy of his success at the jobs he did to make money. The young artist was a complete mystery to them, and the orphans did everything they could to make his miserable life more miserable. Deidara had hated every one of them, up until the day he killed them.

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Deidara didn't tell Tobi the reason he knew that every ninja had a price at which they could be bought. His had been thirty ryou.

When the monthly stipend had first decreased, and then finally disappeared, Deidara and the other orphans had been forced to earn money to feed and clothe themselves. They'd made due with odd jobs at first. The others worked together, supporting each other and getting along just as well as they had with the village's support. Deidara, the perpetual outsider, though, had to survive on his own. He'd gotten by with what he could earn, although the years of malnourishment had left him shorter and skinnier than most of the kids his age.

When the time came for Academy classes to start up, the village officials decided not to waive the fees for the orphans like they had done every year. The village was desperate to raise money to support the war, and if they could milk money out of the otherwise burdensome children, they were more than glad to do so. The orphans found their odd jobs and errands weren't enough anymore. And not being a ninja wasn't an option: those who decided not to attend Academy and follow the way of the shinobi were sent off for 'apprenticeships' in factories and mines.

There weren't very many ways for a young orphan in wartime Iwa to earn cash for classes. Really, there'd been only one way. But for Deidara, skinny, abused, and helpless against fate, the way of the ninja offered power over his own life. So when a shady figure beckoned him into a dark alley and offered him thirty ryou for him to get down on his knees and open his mouth wide, he gave a determined nod and did as instructed.

The price went up after that, of course. Deidara became good at his after-school job, good enough to earn him a higher pay and a place in the back of a warm bar while his orphaned apartment mates stalked the cold streets selling their services. He was beaten up even more after that, but he endured his peers' jealousy just like he endured the cold and the hunger and the soreness in his backside and the awful taste in his mouth. It was amazing what you can get used to, given enough time.

…………………………………………………………………

Deidara didn't tell Tobi that there had been another ninja who had looked at him the way Tobi did, with hesitance and longing and just a little awe. Deidara hadn't known his name, but the gangly teen had seen Deidara on the streets one day and had blushed when the blond looked at, and then through, him. His admirer hadn't waved him into an alley or offered him money, so nine year old Deidara mostly ignored his stares.

It was when the teen passed the chuunin exams and was ordered to the front lines with the other newly promoted ninja that he first approached Deidara with an offer.

The sum was five hundred ryous, more money than he'd ever even seen all at once, if the young blond would come to the chuunin's party and keep the guests entertained. It wasn't the earnest longing in the chuunin's gaze that convinced him to accept the offer; it was the money, plain and simple. Adoration wouldn't pay for his education, and love wouldn't buy him that coat he needed before the winter weather set in.

He'd never been to a party before, but he'd heard complaints from the chuunin's neighbors later on that it was more wild than usual. The newly graduated chuunin were being sent out to battle the next day, and they wanted one night of revelry to remember as they left. The oldest of them wasn't more than fifteen.

The chuunin who was always watching him was the first to lead him away into a bedroom. He'd wasted a lot of time just kissing Deidara, but at least the bed they were laying on was more comfortable than the orphan was used to. The chuunin's eager fumbling told Deidara that the teen was an amateur at what they were doing, so he guided him where he needed to be and then let the man who was paying him have free reign.

It didn't take long once the chuunin actually got started. The teen collapsed on the bed, cradling the blond in his arms. Deidara had wiggled out of his grasp as soon as he was asleep and went back out to the party. There was a table of food, and no one was stopping him from eating it; he ate until his stomach swelled and stuffed his pockets full of non-perishable food.

The chuunin hadn't wandered back out into the party until later, when two drunk, rambunctious ninja were ordering Deidara onto all fours. One crawled up behind him while the other stood in front. He ignored them as they claimed him from both ends; he concentrated on the five hundred ryou and the food in his pockets.

When the two finished up and wandered away into the crowds, the chuunin glared at all the other ninja that were eyeing the blond and wiped him clean with the ends of his shirt.

"How old are you?" he'd asked, and winced when Deidara told him. "You seem older than that," he'd said, and he shook his head sadly. Then he led Deidara to a corner and pulled a strangely wrapped cigarette out of his pocket. When the tip was lit and glowing, he took a long draft, and passed it to Deidara.

"This'll make things easier," the chuunin told him. Deidara breathed in deeply and passed the stick back to the chuunin. Together they smoked the strange sickly-sweet cigarette. The chuunin gave him a bolder kiss than before, and then everything faded away.

Deidara woke up the next morning with a familiar ache in his spine and an even more familiar taste in his mouth. The party was over and the guests had all left or passed out. The young blond scurried around the room, collecting his clothes from all around the room (the food was still blessedly there in his pockets).

He'd met the chuunin once more before the group left to go to war. The chuunin had pulled him into a hug and tried to kiss him. Deidara had resisted until his five hundred ryous were safely placed into his hands.

"They say the war will be over in a month," the chuunin told him, "so I'll be back soon. I…I want to see you again, when I get back." Deidara had nodded. If the chuunin had more money to offer, then he would see him again. The chuunin kissed him again and stroked his cheek slowly before he finally broke apart and went to join his fellow chuunin.

Deidara hadn't ever learned the chuunin's name, but he recognized his face from a picture set in a frame on the war hero's memorial a few months later. Apparently the teen hadn't even lived out the month. Deidara thought it might have been better that he'd never found out that the war was going to drag out for years. After the five hundred ryous were spent, Deidara didn't spare the chuunin another thought until many years later.

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Deidara didn't tell Tobi that he'd never actually earned his hitai-ate. For all the bounties on his head and the crimes he'd committed, he'd technically never graduated to genin.

He'd attended Academy classes at night along with the other orphans. They were told their schedule was to accommodate the students that needed to work part time, although they all knew it was because the parents of the regular Academy students had complained about their children having to share classes with orphans.

They were given the worst classroom, and were taught by a sensei who had lost his license for poor teaching methods. The Academy kept him on because they could pay him half the salary of a legitimate teacher.

There were a couple factors in Deidara's academic failure. First of all, he didn't have time to study like the other orphans did. They worked together and pooled their resources, so when one needed time off from their 'jobs' to study, they could take it. Deidara didn't have such a luxury.

The second reason was the sensei. He was a cruel man, and he chose Deidara as his scapegoat for the class. All of his anger and hatred of his students was directed only at him. When he tried to terrorize any other student, they would band together and rebel until the treatment stopped. Deidara found his papers graded more harshly than the others, his tests 'lost' more often, his jutsus criticized more readily. He mocked the idea that Deidara's clay could be used as a weapon, and made him throw it away any time he caught him molding or sculpting.

The third and final reason for his failure was the other students' pure malice toward him. Whenever any of them learned a new jutsu, they shared it with the rest. They sometimes bartered with veteran ninja, selling favors in exchange for new moves. Deidara swallowed his pride on more than one occasion and asked the other orphans to teach him their jutsus as well. They had refused. They said that they had earned them, and that Deidara would have to learn moves for himself. They knew he could barely support himself, that he couldn't afford to withgo even one paying job in order to learn a new jutsu.

So during the final test, his sensei had glared at Deidara and told him that he wasn't going to be able to move up to genin level if he only knew earth-based jutsu. "A ninja needs variety, Deidara-kun," he'd said with faked concern. Deidara burned with rage as the class laughed. It wasn't his fault that no one had ever taught him anything else, even when he'd asked, even when he'd begged for their help.

"You should just stick with what you're good at Deidara-kun," the sensei had announced to the class. Then in a quiet voice meant for Deidara's ears only, he'd added, "I hear you make quite a talented whore. Maybe I'll find out for myself some time."

The rest of the class graduated with full marks, and the sensei pointedly praised their variety of elemental techniques. He dismissed them and told Deidara to wait behind.

"You might be able to convince me to give you some extra credit, Deidara," the sensei leered. "Just how badly do you want to be a shinobi?"

If the sensei had come to Deidara with the proposition in the beginning, before humiliating him in front of the class and mocking his helplessness, the artist would have considered the offer. Now, he had a different plan in mind. He left the room without a word and ran to his dilapidated apartment. He'd learned a long time ago, by accident, that his anger could be channeled into his clay and detonated.

The next night, as all of the orphans and the sensei were in the back room of the Academy for their graduation ceremony, a mysterious explosion later declared a gas leak ignited the room and killed everyone in the room. The orphans' school records were destroyed as well. The officials didn't bother with anything more than a rudimentary investigation into the incident; after all, the only casualties had been a class full of orphans and one worthless ex teacher. The damage to the building itself was minor.

Deidara had walked into the mission room the next day, wearing a hitai-ate he'd stolen the evening before as he'd planted his explosive clay around the room. He explained that he'd had to miss the graduation ceremony because of work. The mission board workers nodded; they knew what sort of work Iwa orphans did. They called in a few chuunin from the party to confirm Deidara's story. A few had looked embarrassed as well as hung-over, but the chuunin who always watched him spoke for him, and pulled him to the side as soon as he could to pay him and say goodbye.

With the other orphans gone, the condemned apartment building wasn't worth the bribes it cost the village to keep it open. Deidara had to move out, but with his five hundred ryou, his new genin paycheck, and the money he could now earn with little competition on the streets, he could survive.

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Umm, I couldn't find out the value of a ryou in the Naruto universe, so let's just pretend it's roughly equivalent to a dollar, ok?


	2. Chapter 2

What Deidara didn't tell Tobi

Part 2

(corresponds to chapter 6 of Sculpting for Dummies)

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Deidara didn't tell Tobi that the end of his old dream and the beginning of the new was one and the same. He didn't mention what the girl in the orphanage had told him about 'paradise', or how he'd discovered clay explosives.

A little redhead girl, who wasn't more than four at the time, was the one who told him the story. Another orphan had been teasing Deidara about his missing father, and Deidara had hit him and ran off to hide in the backyard of the orphanage. The little girl had been there, and asked if Deidara's parents were in the same place hers were.

"Mine are dead," he'd told her. She'd frowned.

"Oh," she'd said.

"If yours aren't, why are you here?" Deidara asked her.

"Because they live far away, up in the clouds," she'd explained. "I can't wait to go live with them. It's perfect there. There's lots of food, and everyone gets new shoes, not yucky old ones, and all the kids have parents."

Deidara, enticed by the picture she painted, asked, "How do you get there?"

"I don't know. But it's in the clouds. When I find out, I'll bring you with me," she promised.

The redhead girl never took Deidara up to the clouds. She decided not to follow the shinobi lifestyle, and she'd been sent to a weapons factory. None of the other orphans ever saw her again.

Every day after that, Deidara spent hours looking up at the sky as he molded his clay, desperate to catch a glimpse of the village hidden up there. He longed for wings to fly up there, to escape his miserable life and start again with plenty of food and new shoes and a family. He made sculptures of birds and put a tiny clay figurine on their backs, and willed them to fly.

When he started learning how to access his chakra in Academy, he managed to make a clay bird's wing twitch, then finally flap. Before long, he could manage to animate the whole thing. He showed the jutsu to his sensei, who said it was useless. His sensei smashed the writhing bird, and Deidara didn't show him any more of his artwork.

He managed to make the clay expand a week before his class's graduation. He willed the clay to spread itself out, to become bigger, until his clay bird was larger than his body. It took a bit of manipulation until he could find a form that could support his weight, but it was worth it. He took a test flight over a rocky cliff, but decided to wait until after graduation before he attempted any great journey on his clay creation.

Two days before graduation, Deidara stole a peek at the sensei's grade book and realized he wasn't going to pass. In his despair, he left the Academy building, molded another bird, and flew up into the sky. He hated his world on the ground, so he'd find somewhere better.

As he flew further and further up away from Iwagakure, the air became colder and the blond had to take deeper breaths to fill his lungs with air. He ignored the discomfort and concentrated on the flapping of his giant bird's wings. The evening sky was clear, and all he could see was navy blue in every direction.

His deep breaths became gasps. The soft, pliant clay of his bird became hard, and tiny crystals of ice formed on the surface. The movement of the wings slowed and the clay around the joints began to crack. Deidara's vision swam, and it was all he could do to fall down onto the bird and hold on for dear life as it plummeted.

The animated bird saved his life. As it neared the ground, the ice on the wings melted enough for the stored chakra in the wings to make them flap. It slowed the fall enough that Deidara, cushioned by clay, survived with nothing more serious than bruised ribs and a shattered dream.

When he could stand up, Deidara kicked the now-mangled bird. The half-hardened clay hurt his toes, and he sat down and cried. There was no hope left in Iwagakure; he'd fail the final exam and be sent to the mines or forced to become a full time whore. There was no perfect village in the clouds to run to. There was no where in the whole damned world that wanted Deidara. So the little blond orphan sat down beside his great work of art, the mangled bird that he'd hoped would carry him to his dreams, and howled to the sky.

When his tears were spent, Deidara's despair morphed into anger. His clay bird had failed him, and he directed every bit of bitterness and disappointment he had into it. As he placed his hands on the misshapen figure, his turbulent emotions carried his chakra along with it. Without seeking to do so, Deidara filled up his artwork with enough energy to make it combust. It flapped its wings with the power Deidara had given it, and before it made it twenty feet into the air, it exploded.

It was beautiful.

The bird had made Deidara unhappy, and he had destroyed it. It was gone and Deidara was still here, and that explosion had made it possible. There was no one else around to witness it. The entire event, the magnificent flash and the echoing noise and the brief warmth on his skin, belonged to him alone. It was the only thing he'd ever owned that no one could take from them.

The explosions were addictive after that. He spent the rest of that night right where he'd fallen, sculpting tiny clay figures that he animated and destroyed. He didn't work, didn't study, didn't eat, didn't sleep, yet he'd never felt so energized or alive. _This_ was all he needed. He no longer felt hunger or cold. All he wanted was to make a bigger explosion, hear a louder noise, make a larger impact that no one would be able to deny was his.

He would find a way to pass his final exam, he swore. Then he'd be assigned a real sensei, a jounin who could help him achieve a more perfect control of his chakra and therefore create a better explosion.

Deidara stood up and brushed off his despair as he dusted the dirt off of his pants. He would strive to improve his explosions no matter what. And when he reached the point where there was nothing left to improve, he'd die. In the time between the fall and the explosion, he'd witnessed the horror that life could be without a dream. He swore that he'd never let himself reach that state again.

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	3. Chapter 3

What Deidara didn't tell Tobi

Part 3 (corresponding with chapter 9 of Sculpting)

Deidara didn't tell Tobi the reason he left Iwagakure. He didn't ever really tell Tobi anything about his past, but his life in his home village was especially guarded.

He blew up his first real building two weeks after he 'graduated' from the Academy, on a solo mission to deliver a scroll to a chuunin on the Earth land border. There was an abandoned shack in the mountains along the border, so old and beaten by falling rocks that it barely stood. Deidara formed a clay bird with his fingers and let it fly into the old building. One explosion was all it took to make it tumble down. Deidara decided that, more than just creating explosions, he wanted to make explosions that could destroy things. No lame firework-explosions for him; he wanted bombs, powerful ones, that could eliminate a building or change a landscape into a smoking crater.

………..

Deidara didn't tell Tobi that his first 'terrorist' bombing (he preferred the term 'artistic', but his entry in the Bingo book insisted upon the word) was in his own village, and was executed while he was still affiliated with Iwagakure.

The target was the Bureau of Village Affairs, the building in which the village officials had amended orphan policy in the village and forced Deidara into a life of poverty and prostitution. The artist made sure there was a meeting on the day he blew it up. He used up three bags of his exploding clay making sure the whole building went down- he didn't know how to target the structural weak points, but he wanted the job done right. He'd spent months preparing the attack, and he swore to himself that not a stone would be left standing.

Iwagakure spent the next few days in turmoil, and the surviving village elders hired jounin to investigate the bombing, to no avail. The ninja searched the ruins for traces of explosions, but found only stone, wood, and clay- nothing out of the ordinary. When the Mission office opened again, Deidara reported for his job as if nothing had happened.

He ended up staying affiliated with Iwagakure for three more years. He didn't think even then that the village ever figured out who had bombed the Bureau. When he looked back on the incident, he smiled to himself and muttered, "Payback's a bitch, un?"

…………

Deidara didn't tell Tobi that when he finally left Iwagakure, he didn't do it alone.

He met the group a few times before, on missions outside of the village. They were a band of rogues, who specialized in explosives. They'd witnessed his clay birds destroying a bridge, and had taught him a few tricks to maximize the explosion's impact. They let Deidara tag along on a few jobs when he finished up a mission in their area and had the time.

He'd known they had ulterior motives when they asked him to join their band. He didn't fool himself into thinking they were interested in him solely for his artistic ability. But they had something he needed, the technical expertise that could help him perfect his jutsu more than his neglectful jounin sensei could. So he returned from his mission, collected his pay, packed his possessions into a single duffle bag, and met up with the rogues.

At first, he worked for them like he'd worked in his village. They fed and clothed him, and he let them fuck him in exchange for lessons about explosions.

When he'd learned enough from them to manage on his own, he formed a clay figurine and wiped out half a town with a single explosion. The men in the group had watched, jaws hanging. They hadn't realized what the skinny blond was capable of. After that, they didn't try to sleep with him. He'd proved himself as an equal, someone with power.

He stayed with them for a few more months, not because he appreciated their company (although their looks of fear whenever he started palming his clay were rather entertaining- after so many years spent as a victim, power gave Deidara a sort of drunken rush), but because they provided him with targets.

Their terrorism and his art only conflicted one time. The rogues had ordered him to rig up a beautiful, traditional pagoda with explosives. The aesthetic beauty of the building had delighted Deidara, and he'd invested in some of his best clay figures for it. The group had issued their demands to the village that housed the pagoda… and the village met them.

To say Deidara was angry was an understatement. When the leader of the group ordered him to disable the explosives, Deidara became livid. The smarter of the terrorists realized what Deidara was up to when he formed a clay bird, and they quickly dragged their stupider counterparts out of the pagoda and out of range. Deidara took to the air on his bird and blew the pagoda to smithereens. The beauty of the destruction almost brought tears to his eyes. While the rest of the terrorist band regrouped on the ground below, Deidara stayed on his clay bird and flew off. He wouldn't let anyone else's initiatives come between himself and his art.

It was his first time going out into the world completely on his own, without an affiliation to a village or a group. As long as he had his art, though, he was sure he could survive anything.

…………………………..

Deidara didn't tell Tobi how long he spent on his own. To tell the truth, he couldn't even recall how long it was.

The time passes almost in a blur. There wasn't anything memorable about those years for Deidara. He worked as a free agent, destroying anything that clients asked him to destroy, as long as the pay was right. He had enough to eat, and he didn't have to sell his body. He supposed his life was tolerable, but bland.

It occurred to him one day that he needed an opponent. If he could find another artist to be his rival, he'd have something to strive for, and the sense of competition would add the excitement he craved in his life.

He ended up not having to look far. His opponents came to him, dressed in strange black and red robes, ordering him to join them. Deidara refused, of course. He had never dealt well with authority. He fought it, just as he always had…

…and lost. The defeat was humiliating. It was deceitful. The bastard had used genjutsu against him! No one had ever taught Deidara how to repel genjutsu! The artist swore to himself that he'd learn to counter that emotionless bastard's jutsu and kick his ass. He could just tell those red swirling eyes were mocking his art, and it made his anger burn. He'd found a rival, all right. He'd beat this Uchiha Itachi, or die in the trying.

………………

Deidara didn't tell Tobi that, although he pretended to not notice the other man's existence, he'd known Tobi all along.

He'd pretended otherwise, of course. Deidara was careful to never acknowledge Tobi's presence, no matter what the masked man did to catch his attention.

It was Tobi's own fault. Deidara wouldn't have cared about the kid either way, except that Tobi was there that first day. He'd seen Deidara's embarrassing entrance into the Akatsuki, being dragged along by Sasori's chakra strings after being defeated by Itachi in battle. It was bad enough for the other members to have witnessed his humiliation. For a mere subordinate to have seen Deidara's shameful defeat, that was unacceptable.

Whenever Tobi followed him around headquarters, or offered to help him carry his clay, or juggled kunai in front of him to try to impress the artist, Deidara was reminded of that first meeting, and his humiliation. Deidara hated Tobi because of it, and from their first meeting until Tobi's ascension into the Akatsuki, when Deidara couldn't ignore him any more, Deidara acted as if Tobi didn't exist.

Looking back at his life later on, he decided that his life would've been much easier if Tobi hadn't.

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An: Sorry this part was so long in coming (and not very exciting at that). I got really distracted by the discovery of fictionpress . net (fanfiction for original works). I mean, it's like people are writing books, for free! Yaoi books! Friggin' awesome!

Anyways, this part is a transition chapter. The next one is more exciting, because you get to find out more about Deidara's time in the Akatsuki (that's why this chapter had to be the transition, getting Deidei from Iwa to Akatsuki). M rating ahead!


	4. Chapter 4

What Deidara didn't tell Tobi

Part 3

Deidara didn't tell Tobi which of the other Akatsuki members he'd slept with. He figured Tobi knew about Sasori-no-danna, but he wasn't sure about the others. Deidara wasn't about to tell the masked man that he'd slept with all of them.

……………………………….

Pein, the Akatsuki leader, had been the first. It was a one-time thing, Deidara's initiation to the organization. Deidara didn't think any of the other members had been 'initiated.'

It might have had something to do with the fact he hadn't wanted to join. Deidara, unlike the rest, who had undergone great trials to win a spot in the group, was dragged kicking and screaming into Headquarters. He had never functioned well under authority. Pein learned that when he tried to shake Deidara's hand and ended up with a palm full of exploding clay, which detonated a moment later.

Deidara still wasn't sure how Pein escaped with his hand intact. But however his method, when the smoke cleared, the leader was whole (though very pissed). He growled at Deidara and shoved him face down onto his desk.

"Right now, Deidara­_-kun_, you are beneath all of us here. In time, you may be able to prove your worth and become an equal with the rest of them. But remember, _I_ am your leader. You will never reach my level, never be anything other than my servant. You belong to me now," he told the blond as he pinned him down with one hand and unbuckled his belt with the other.

He'd taken him right there, bent over his desk, with no preparation. Afterwards, Pein had tossed him a red and black cloak and a ring.

"Put these on," he'd ordered. Deidara had complied, only because he could see he wasn't strong enough to stand up to him yet. One day he would be, he promised himself, and then Pein would see who was serving who.

"Welcome to the Akatsuki," Pein mocked, as he tossed Deidara out of the office.

……………………………………………..

Sarori-no-danna was the next, and the most frequent. Deidara hadn't planned on seducing him, but…he found artistic talent incredibly sexy. Sasori was a _very_ talented artist.

On their first mission as partners, Deidara witnessed Sasori's puppets in battle. They weren't the style of art the blond preferred, but there was no denying they were brilliantly made and used with amazing skill. Deidara watched Sasori fight, nearly got himself killed because he was so distracted, and all he could think was, 'I have to make him teach me.'

What better way to manipulate the strange, hunched-over man than to seduce him? Deidara was willing to overlook physical deformities in order to improve his art. That didn't mean he wasn't relieved when he found out that hunched-over body was only shell, but he thought he would have fucked the other man regardless.

Well, not regardless, because when Deidara found out there was a fucking _kid_ inside that shell, finally coaxed out of his puppet by the lure of sex, Deidara had firmly changed his mind. He could find a way to manipulate a kid without sex. Hell, he could probably offer him candy, he looked so young!

Sasori's personality hadn't changed with the shedding of his puppet-shell, though. He didn't handle Deidara's rejection as well as Deidara would've liked. By didn't handle, Deidara meant he didn't _permit_. Their first time together, Sasori ignored Deidara's protests and bound him with chakra strings.

When the puppeteer finished and crawled back inside his scorpion shell, Deidara resolved not to sleep with him again. There were other ways, better ways to learn from him and improve his art that didn't involve being tied up and humiliated by a _child_.

The next battle came and went, and Deidara was so hypnotized by the beauty of Sasori's creations that he let the redhead fuck him with only a few token complaints. The truth was, he envied Sasori's art, the power that it held. He wanted that for himself and his clay creations. So he let the puppeteer claim him. He called him 'danna' and craved his attentions. If Sasori would acknowledge his art, then Deidara would know that his dream to create the perfect explosion was possible.

When Sasori fell in battle and Deidara survived, Deidara made a snide remark and laughed at his master's foolishness. 'If he was as powerful as I thought, he wouldn't have lost to an old lady and a little girl,' he told himself. With that in mind, it was easy to put aside the longing he felt, easy to pass off the pain as disgust at having followed so weak a man. It didn't matter that he'd never gotten Sasori's approval and never would, because Sasori couldn't even judge the strength of his own puppets. Easy to say Sasori's death didn't matter, because Sasori was nobody special.

…………………………………………………….

Kakuzu grossly underpaid him. He'd been summoned to the old man's room when he'd come back from a mission having exceeded his budget.

"What did you spend that much money on?" Kakuzu had demanded to know.

"A statue," Deidara replied truthfully. Kakuzu waited.

"Well…" he said, "can I see it?"

"Why?"

"Because I need to appraise it. If it's a valuable investment that will gain worth in time, I can write off the expense. If it's some cheap knock-off, I'm charging you for the difference."

Deidara shrugged. "I blew it up."

"You did _what_?"

"I blew it up. It was a pathetic excuse for art, so I bought it and blew it sky-high."

Kakuzu rubbed his temples beneath the cloth covering he wore. "You do know I'll be expecting you to fully reimburse the organization."

"Whatever. I'll collect a bounty or something next time I'm out."

"You just got back from a mission. You won't be going 'out' for a month at least. That is unacceptable," Kakuzu complained.

Deidara shrugged again. "There's nothing I can do, unless you'll accept services for payment."

Kakuzu did. They came to an agreement, and a short while later Deidara limped out of Kakuzu's room, debt-free.

He found out a few days later that the statue he'd destroyed had only put him a hundred ryou over budget. Kakuzu, that cheap bastard, had gotten him for a discount price. That being said, Deidara figured his eventual death at the hands of a bunch of children was karma coming back to haunt him.

………………………………………………………….

Kisame was the most considerate of the Akatsuki. On the battlefield, he was a pure fiend, but in everyday life, he was polite and could even be nice. He was sensitive about his blue skin because he had been rejected because of it in the past, although he would never have told anyone that.

It was strictly a business deal. Deidara had been trying to work out a way to counteract the sharingan, and he needed some information about how it worked. The blond couldn't walk up and ask Itachi about it, so he settled for the next best thing: his partner. Kisame would tell Deidara what he needed to know about the eye jutsu, and Deidara would let Kisame do what the prostitutes in the town wouldn't because of his abnormal color.

It was enjoyable, certainly. Deidara learned first hand that Kisame's large sword was certainly not compensating for anything. He was sore for days afterwards (not to mention the insides of his thighs had been rubbed raw by Kisame's rough textured skin), but the memories of the encounter made up for it. Besides, Kisame was mindful of his sharpened teeth when he kissed and licked, and he was one of the only ones to stop and prepare Deidara before sex, so there wasn't any real damage done.

Deidara found himself in need of more information during his quest to defeat the sharingan, so he ended up trading with Kisame a few more times. If Itachi glared at him more than usual the days after, that was just an added bonus.

……………………………………………………….

Fucking Zetsu was a momentary lapse of judgment on Deidara's part. One day, he just happened to look over at him and wonder where the hell those leaves came from. Were they attached to his shoulders? Did they wrap around him like a corn husk? Was it some sort of protective gear he wore? His curiosity was killing him.

The artist decided a reconnaissance mission was in order. He waited until the plant-man was in the shower and snuck in to try and catch a glimpse of what was under that cloak.

"Would Deidara-kun like to join us? _He'd better not be spying!_" Zetsu had said, making Deidara jump. Deidara wondered what he should do. In the end, he figured joining Zetsu in the shower would at least answer his question about Zetsu's physical make-up. He stripped off his clothes and stepped inside.

"Deidara-kun has been a naughty boy. _We punish naughty boys_," Zetsu informed him. Deidara ignored the talking and observed the cannibal's body. The green leaves were still attached, but they disappeared into Zetsu's shoulders (one black and one white, split perfectly down his line of symmetry).

Since Zetsu seemed to want it, and because it was easier for Deidara to comply than it was to explain the real reason he'd wandered into Zetsu's bathroom, Deidara turned his back the black-and-white man and let him enter him. He refused to kiss Zetsu, though, knowing what the plant-man liked to eat. Not only was there the nauseating thought of Zetsu's cannibal spit, there was a likelihood that if he stuck his tongue into that mouth, he might not get it back. Even without kissing, he stepped out of the shower feeling disgusting. Sex with the plant-man was not an experience he'd be repeating.

Zetsu was creepy, after all. It was no wonder he was the only one in the organization to not be paired with a partner.

…………………………………………………….

Deidara almost didn't survive his encounter with Hidan. It happened a few days after the religious freak joined the Akatsuki, before Deidara was aware of the man's fighting style.

The platinum-haired man found him out in the shed behind the Akatsuki headquarters (after numerous fires and damage from explosions, the leader told Deidara he was only allowed to practice his jutsu out there, not in the building), tweaking a C-3 spider.

Hidan paced a wide circle around him, dripping blood all the while. Once he completed the circle, he came close and leaned over Deidara's shoulder.

"You'd better not bleed on my clay, newbie," Deidara warned, not looking up from his art.

Hidan began his pacing again. He dragged his feet and made a blood triangle that connected to his circle. "If I were you, it wouldn't be _my_ blood that I'd worry about." He drew a kunai and stabbed it into his hand. Deidara cursed as his own hand tore open and gushed blood.

"What the fuck?" he yelled. He looked up at Hidan, whose skin had become black with the outline of white bones. He drew the blade up his arm lightly. A tiny red line appeared on Deidara's arm as well.

"Isn't the pain exquisite?" Hidan asked. He ran the knife teasingly over his throat (Deidara gulped nervously), not quite cutting the skin. "Jashin-sama delights in it."

Deidara formed the seal for the dispel jutsu, but the mysterious link between them refused to be banished. Hidan licked blood off of his fingers and Deidara felt the wet warmth of a tongue, tasted the same coppery tang that Hidan did. The servant of Jashin slid a hand over his bared, discolored chest and down below the waistband of his pants.

"I'm going to fuck you raw, you fucking arrogant asshole," he whispered to Deidara as he pleasured himself with a bleeding hand. Deidara felt the conflicting sensations of pain in his hand and pleasure in his cock. He reached for his clay to put an end to the religious fanatic.

"I wouldn't do that, unless you want to blow us both up. Maybe you should…I bet it would feel fucking amazing," Hidan said with a groan. He grabbed Deidara and flipped him over. A small cut on the small of his back that dripped blood down into his entrance was the only preparation he received before Hidan shoved in.

"Oh, Jashin-sama!" Hidan moaned. He drew the blade up and down his black-and-white leg. Deidara felt it all. He avoided pain whenever he could, but now it was inescapable. His body couldn't help but respond, though. Because he was somehow linked with the other man, he was feeling the twin sensations of taking and being taken. It was too much to ignore.

Deidara was dizzy from blood loss and from Hidan's rough treatment when the platinum-haired man finally came inside of him and pulled away. He bit Deidara's shoulder forcefully. "Now I'm going to kill you for Jashin-sama. You should be honored, whore," he whispered as he lapped up the blood. He reached outside of the blood circle and retrieved the long bladed staff he'd left there before the ritual started.

The tail of Sasori's Hiruko puppet stabbed Hidan's hand and made the blood-covered acolyte drop his weapon. The puppet broke the connection of the circle with one leg as the tail wrapped around Deidara and lifted him off of the floor.

"The leader already told you other members are off limits. Find someone else for your ritual," the puppet growled. He left Hidan writhing on the ground from the effects of a poison that couldn't kill him.

The Jashin priest didn't bother Deidara after that, but Deidara's hatred of him never faded. He had no doubts that Sasori-no-danna had saved his life that day. When the news came that Hidan had been buried alive by a fifteen-year-old, Deidara had tilted his head back and laughed. He thought about going to the site to dance on the grave, but figured it would be overkill. He settled for praying fervently that an army of fire-ants would use his head as a nest.

…………………………………………………………….

Konan was one of the only females he'd ever slept with. She walked up to him one day at headquarters and told him she wanted to fuck him.

"It seems like everyone else around here has. I'm feeling left out," she explained. Deidara told her he didn't see what he had to gain from it.

"Sleep with me and I'll tell you something about myself. You are curious, aren't you?" she said. Deidara was. Most of the members of Akatsuki didn't even know her name. All they knew was she was the leader's partner, and off limits.

"Fine," he said. The blue-haired woman led him to an empty room, pushed him to the ground and straddled him. "My name is Konan. I could disembowel you twelve different ways using nothing but this flower," she told him, gesturing to the paper flower she had pinned to her blue locks.

She didn't let him do anything as she rode him. She made it clear that she was in charge, and he was expected only to lay there and let her have her way with him.

Neither was particularly impressed by the encounter. Konan remarked that she'd 'had better,' and Deidara felt no sudden desire to sleep with females. He salvaged the situation by teasing the other Akatsuki members with the information he'd learned about the elusive Konan. It wasn't his first meaningless fuck, and it certainly wouldn't be his last.

…………………………………………………………..

Deidara still wasn't sure if he'd slept with Itachi or not. He preferred to think he didn't. Stupid sharingan. He fucking hated that bloodline limit!

It happened (or didn't happen) the day he'd returned to headquarters after Sasori's death. Kakuzu reattached the pieces of his arms, and the first thing he'd done was start blowing up Sasori's room. It was Sasori's own fault for dying and leaving him to almost get killed by a team of Konoha nin. Eight to one, those were the odds that that puppeting bastard had left him with!

The former Sauna shinobi's room was in flames when Itachi showed up. "Leader orders you to stop blowing up our headquarters," he deadpanned.

Deidara threw an exploding centipede at him. The Uchiha deflected it easily. "He thinks you might be having trouble coping. I'm supposed to come and give you closure."

Deidara looked up to ask him what the hell kind of closure Itachi thought he needed (he wasn't upset by Sasori's death, he was pissed off!), but he met swirling red eyes before he could even think to activate his left eye.

Suddenly, Itachi was gone, and in his place was Sasori-no-danna, alive and sans puppet-shell. "You'd better enjoy this, Deidara," he said gruffly as he removed the blond's clothes piece by piece. "This is our last time together."

Itachi's illusion made a few mistakes (he kissed him, first of all. Sasori never kissed. His puppet's tongue was in working order to facilitate speaking, but it lacked body temperature and felt _wrong_, so Sasori never kissed him after the first time), but it was easy to fall into the genjutsu and allow himself to be fooled.

Deidara didn't know if Itachi could read his mind, or if the sharingan was broadcasting his inner desires, or if that bastard Uchiha could just read him that well, but as he finished, Sasori whispered in his ear, "Your art surpassed mine." Then, the illusion shattered and Deidara was lying on the ground with Itachi staring down at him from above.

He didn't know if Itachi had actually done anything with him while he was under the illusion. He felt the ache in his backside, tasted the hint of another on his tongue. Maybe it was just the effect of the jutsu. Deidara still wasn't sure. Itachi walked away before Deidara could even stand up.

………………………………………………….

(Deidara didn't sleep with Orochimaru. That evil snake bastard was gone before Deidara ever joined Akatsuki, but he wouldn't have touched the man even if he'd still been around. The sannin fucked and fucked up boys, much like the men in Iwagakure had done to him, and Deidara hated the mere thought of the man. He heard Orochimaru had no taste, but he'd always thought that if he ever got near enough to the man to shove an exploding clay bird down his throat, the snake might learn to appreciate a true work of art.)

…………………………………………………………….

Deidara didn't tell Tobi that of all the Akatsuki members he'd slept with, Tobi was the one that was the most disconcerting to him. He couldn't figure out why at first. It only came to him later on, when he stood up from the floor of his art studio where he'd retreated and sat for hours, just thinking. When he went to stand up, he braced himself for a twinge of pain that never came.

Of all the people he'd ever had sex with, Akatsuki or otherwise, Tobi was the only one that hadn't hurt.

………………………………………………………………..

AN: Ok, a quick note on Kisame and Itachi, and my characterization of them. Apparently my writing of them in this SfD (and probably in this chapter of this fic, too) confused some people.

Kisame may be a crazy fiend in battle, but there is evidence to suggest that he's a nice guy otherwise. He speaks very politely, he listens to and watches out for Itachi, and he is the one who notes that Tobi brightens up the Akatsuki (before he goes all Darth-evil on us). In one of the short after-episode things, he and Deidara sit down and have a friendly conversation about Itachi's abilities (and he is dreadfully sensitive about his blue skin).

Itachi: I know he killed his clan and all, but I don't believe there wasn't a reason. Note, he has spared Sasuke's life numerous times, because he has no reason to kill him (he even seems to be encouraging him to grow stronger in order to protect himself). He walks into Konoha before the time skip not to cause trouble, but to peacefully gather some information. He only ever fights when provoked, and while he is pretty emotionless, he doesn't come across to me as a homicidal freak. So sue me.


	5. Chapter 5

What Deidara didn't tell Tobi

Part 5:

(Corresponding to Chapter 20 of Sculpting)

Deidara didn't tell Tobi that not all families could be trusted. His own had betrayed him before the war in Iwa had even begun to make life hard.

Four year old Deidara had placed the same faith in his parents that Tobi did with his theoretical relatives. The little blond boy waited patiently for them to return when they went on missions, helping out the remaining parent any way he could. Every time they left, he begged them not to go, and made them promise to return safely.

The last time Deidara saw him, his father ruffled his hair and promised the boy he'd come home as soon as he could.

"Don't cry, sport," he said when Deidara grabbed his legs to keep him from walking out of the house. "I've got to go; there's a very important mission I need to do. Don't worry. I'll be back soon, I promise."

The man didn't mention to little Deidara that his 'mission' involved breaking into daimyo's private safe. He said nothing about his 'mission partner' being the feudal lord's pretty, much younger civilian wife.

When the Tsuchikage declared him a missing ninja, Deidara told his mother that it had to be a mistake. His father wouldn't leave them; he'd promised to come back. 'You can't break a promise,' he told his mother solemnly.

She sighed and shook her head. "You'll learn soon enough."

And he did.

…………………………………………………………………….

Deidara didn't tell Tobi that he knew "I'll be back soon" was a lie. It always was.

"I'll be back soon, I promise," his father told him as he left the house with his and Deidara's mother's life savings, to run away with the Daimyo's wife and the Daimyo's money.

He never came back, not even as a corpse. Iwagakure declared him legally dead after the man's scorned wife tracked him down and confronted him, but there wasn't enough pieces left to tell for certain.

"You'll learn soon enough," Deidara's mother whispered to him as he defended his missing father. "Now, go fetch me my kunai set. Mommy's got a mission."

"But Daddy's not here to watch me," Deidara protested. He'd never stayed by himself before, and the thought of being alone scared him.

"You won't even notice I'm gone, Dei-kun, I promise."

"You'll be back soon?"

"Yes…I'll be back soon. It'll be a quick mission," his mother assured him.

She didn't lie about one thing- the mission was quick. It only took her a few hours to find her cheating husband and his new lover. Deidara's mother killed the mistress, and inspectors decided that there was too much spilt blood and bits of flesh strewn around for the husband to have escaped alive. They thought she might have thrown the mutilated body into a nearby pond before she broke her other promise to Deidara, and slit her own throat.

"They say the war will be over in a month," the nameless chuunin told Deidara as he paid him for his services, "so I'll be back soon. I…I want to see you again."

The teen never returned to see the blond and convince him of his affections. He became another name on the war casualty list and another broken promise in Deidara's mind.

Deidara's Akatsuki colleges didn't say the words exactly, but they still made and broke promises to return.

"You'd better have these expenses balanced out by the time I get back, Deidara," Kakuzu threatened as he left to collect a routine bounty. The artist painstakingly recorded every expenditure and managed to get his account in order…but the miserly man didn't come home to see it.

"I spent three fucking hours making my hair look this perfect, you fucktard! You'll pay for messing it up!" Hidan snapped after Deidara let an exploding centipede ignite the thick layer of gel on the priest's head. Kakuzu motioned for the other man to follow him, so Hidan revised his threat. "Tomorrow, Deidara! Tomorrow, you're fucking dead!"

The next day, Deidara wasn't the dead Akatsuki member.

Sasori didn't say anything when Deidara left him for the last time, but Deidara could tell he was assured of victory. The way he argued with Deidara in front of their enemies, the ease with which he let Deidara engage the kyuubi and the copy ninja- in his own way, Sasori was saying to him, 'This is more of an annoyance than a battle. I'll meet up with you in no time. You'd better not make me wait.'

Deidara didn't expect anything more from Tobi's promise than he did of anyone else's. After all, if his own parents, who were supposed to love him unconditionally, were able to leave him without a second thought, how could he rely on Tobi's devotion? If the immortal team and the master artist weren't able to make it back, why should Tobi?

Deidara had stopped believing other people's promises long ago. Everybody left eventually; some just ripped away more of you than others when they did.

……………………………………………………………………………….

Deidara didn't tell Tobi that of all the people that had hurt him over the years, Tobi caused him the most pain.

It was Deidara's fault for letting Tobi get too close. He'd kept everyone else at arm's length since his parents' death, and the distance had helped soften the inevitable blows they dealt him. He'd stayed on guard with everyone else, always watching so they couldn't stab him in the back.

It hadn't even occurred to him to be wary of goofy, obnoxious Tobi. He stopped pushing him away, and by the time Deidara realized he was there, Tobi was near enough to strike a killing blow.

It hurt because the artist had put himself into the position to be hurt. He offered Tobi a second chance at his first life in exchange for his own freedom. He allowed Tobi to stay in Konoha, even though he wasn't sure he could live without him any more.

All he'd wanted was for Tobi to say 'No.' One simple word to justify the risks Deidara had taken for him, one syllable to confirm that he hadn't put his faith in nothing. With one word, they could be together again. One word, and a whole lifetime of disappointment would cease to matter.

Tobi didn't say no.

Deidara didn't tell him how much it hurt to know that Tobi was just like all of the others after all.

………………………………………………………………………………

AN: I think this is the last actual chapter of the side story. There will be an epilogue, though, that comes shortly after the end of Sculpting.

(I don't think this chapter will make much sense without having read chapter 20, so if you don't follow both stories and are confused, I apologize.)

And sorry if the ideas of this story are a little jumpy. They're supposed to reflect Deidara's state of mind, which is understandably a little messed up. Thanks for sticking with it and getting all the way down to the author's note!


	6. Chapter 6

What Deidara didn't Tell Tobi

Part 6

(somewhere between Chapter 23 and the epilogue of Sculpting for Dummies)

……………………………………..

Deidara didn't tell Tobi he loved him. He didn't understand the feeling, and he wasn't about to say it out loud and make it…final. Real? There'd been a point where he'd almost killed himself for Tobi. He didn't know how he'd gotten here from there.

The artist supposed it made sense, in a twisted way. He'd felt every other emotion about Tobi: hate, disgust, tolerance, amusement, lust, frustration, fear, contentment…if nothing else could be said about the masked man, at least he always made Deidara feel _something_.

Deidara wasn't sure if the weird, fluttery sensation in his stomach, the emptiness, the fullness, the longing, the stabbing pain and the all-encompassing pleasure meant love. It had to be the closest he'd ever felt to love, surely, but…he was Akatsuki. What would he know about such things? But…if he thought it was, then wasn't it?

Deidara didn't tell Tobi about his suspicions of love, because he didn't know what to say.

………………………………………

Deidara didn't tell Tobi that he loved him. Tobi said the 'l' word enough for the both of them, anyways. Sometimes he even said it _in public_. Deidara always made sure to kick his ass when he did, so he'd know not to do it again. If the artist let him get away with things like that, the masked man would start doing other things, like call him pet names, or hold his hand, or kiss him in front of people.

That would be unacceptable. Deidara grudgingly endured Tobi's affectionate words in private. Everything he'd ever learned taught him if he exposed anything of value to others, they'd take it from him. Deidara wanted to keep Tobi.

……………………………………….

Deidara didn't tell Tobi that he loved him. He though he'd made it pretty goddamn obvious with his actions. He put up with Tobi, first of all. If anyone else tried to get away with the things Tobi did, Deidara would've killed them. Tobi's continued existence was proof enough of Deidara's feelings.

And if that didn't make it blatant, he cleaned the house when Tobi went on missions, and he cooked meals for him when he returned. He let Tobi cuddle with him after sex (hell, letting the brunet sleep in his bed at all proved it!) and even allowed kisses in the morning before Tobi had brushed his teeth.

He bore Tobi's sentimental nonsense and his strange sense of humor. When the masked man hurt himself doing stupid things, Deidara would patch him back together. He let Tobi into his studio, allowing him to handle unfinished artwork and not kicking him out when he broke a piece.

He offered his life for Tobi's more than once, and if the need arose, he'd do it again.

If Tobi couldn't figure it out from all of that, Deidara didn't think he deserved to know.

……………………………………………….

Deidara didn't tell Tobi that he loved him, but he almost did more times than he could count. It sat on his tongue, threatening to slip out in casual conversation. Now that he'd named the feeling in his head, his mouth seemed determined to force a confession out of him.

He bit his tongue every time he started to say it to the other man. He changed the words at the last minute, fighting desperately to keep his secret. (Tobi started to eye him suspiciously after the fifteenth time Deidara told him, "I love you…r cooking.") He almost became scared to talk to Tobi, for fear of saying it without thinking. His heart pounded as he lay awake at night, his brain screaming at him to speak the words into the silence.

He thought that if he could say it just once, he'd get it out of his system…but he held his tongue. Saying 'I love you' would cement it, and to Deidara, the vast unknown ocean of love seemed terrifying. He didn't want to need Tobi, couldn't stand the thought of depending on him, wouldn't admit to himself that he could never leave him.

After the twentieth time complementing his cooking, he realized that, even without the words, he'd never not need Tobi.

…………………………………………………….

Deidara waited until Tobi fell asleep before he told him.

"Listen up, dumbass," he whispered into the darkness, "because I'm only going to say this once. It's not my fault if you miss it, un." The blond shifted in the bed so he couldn't see Tobi's silhouetted face.

"I think you're the stupidest person on the planet. You have appalling taste, and your color scheme could make a blind man cry. But for some reason, I think I might love you, un." He admitted quietly. Then he quickly added, "But if you tell anyone that I said so, I'll shove a C-4 up your ass, un!"

He shifted again, nervously. "Don't think this changes anything. It doesn't. If you piss me off, I'll still kill you. So…so don't do stupid things."

The blond snorted and lay flat on his back. He clamped his rebellious mouth shut to make sure no other silly, sappy confessions could emerge.

Beside him, Tobi smiled.

Deidara didn't tell Tobi that he knew from the start that Tobi was awake.

……………………………………………………..

AN: And that's all for WDDTT and the Sculpting for Dummies arc! Didn't I say I'd make it end happy?

Well, I hope it was a satisfying ending for you readers, and not too far of a stretch. I know there's not much transition between the last chapter and this one, but it's meant to be read alongside Sculpting, and it makes more sense with the Sculpting epilogue under your belt.

Anyways, to those few dedicated readers of this story (especially you kind ones who left me reviews), I offer my gratitude, and I really hope you enjoyed 'What Deidara didn't tell Tobi'.


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